Page 22

Sighing, I throw my free arm over my eyes and try to clear my mind. A laugh bubbles out of me and I shake my head.

What a fucking joke.

My head is never clear… except recently when I’m around Quinn. My mind drifts to yesterday as I brought her home from the hospital and carried her up to her room. The thing is she felt so damn good in my arms in a way that I’ve never felt before and it was more than her lush curves or soft skin. When I’m with her, I feel free. Maybe she’s just a pretty distraction, an easy way to redirect the toxic thoughts that are always spinning in my head but I don’t know that I care anymore. I need to see her again because even after only spending a few hours with her, I’m clinging to that liberation. And then there’s that little voice in my head that keeps screaming that she’s different from all the other girls but there’s too damn much going on in my life right now to even think about that.

My phone rings and I jerk up, glancing down at my phone as my arm falls from my face. A Baton Rouge number flashes on the screen and I scoop it up, praying it’s not the morgue.

“Hello?”

“Hey. It’s Diego.”

My heart rate slows as I blow out a breath. “Hey, man. What’s up?”

“You’re going to want to get down to the station.”

I jerk forward, spilling coffee on the floor. “Why? What’s going on?”

“I’ve got your brother in a cell here.”

“Jesus Christ,” I hiss, shaking my head as I stand and set the half empty cup of coffee down on the bookshelf. “Do I need to bring bail?”

“Naw, you’re good. They just kept him until he sobered up.”

I nod. “Okay. I’ll be there in fifteen.”

We hang up and I chuck my phone across the room, irritated when it lands on the bed instead of smashing against the wall. Fuck this shit. Why am I jumping up to go bail him out of jail when he’s just going to be right back there next week or the week after that? He’s fucking using me but both of us know that I’ll continue to let him.

Shoving myself up from the bed, I stomp across the room and grab my phone before going to the dresser and pulling the lockbox I keep in the underwear drawer out. I grab the chain from around my neck and pull it off before jamming the key into the lock and flipping the top open. Stacks of cash stare back at me and I grab one, thumbing through it before shoving the whole thing in my pocket. I know Rodriguez said he covered it but I have to pay him back for all the help he’s given me. I couldn’t even tell you how many times Rodriguez has kept my brother’s issues under wraps after he’s been arrested.

Once the lockbox is secure again, I shove it back in the drawer, slip the chain around my neck, and grab my bike keys off the dresser before yanking the door to my room open. I almost crash into Streak, the club’s cyber expert, as I step out into the hallway. He holds his hands up in surrender

“Whoa, where’s the fire?”

I shoot him a glare. “Clay’s in jail again.”

“Ah,” he whispers, understanding crossing his face. “Well, good luck with that.”

I nod and head for the stairs, leaving him behind me. The guys used to try and talk to me about my brother but they know by now it’s a topic that’s off limits. Especially since a lot of them just want me to cut him loose. I wish I could blame them but they have no idea the shit Clay and I have lived through together and even if I wanted to give up on him, I can’t.

The bar is quiet when I reach the bottom of the stairs and I’m thankful that I can get out of here without having to explain the situation to anyone else. Shoving the door to the clubhouse open, bright sunlight blinds me and I slip my sunglasses on and jog over to my bike before swinging my leg over it and firing it up. It rumbles beneath me and my heart kicks against my rib cage as I race out of the parking lot and turn away from the clubhouse. Anger fuels me to go faster, whipping through the streets of Baton Rouge with no regard for my own personal safety. By the time I pull up in front of the police department, I’m panting and my anger has melted away to exhaustion.

Climbing off the bike, I make my way inside and stop in front of the desk as I wait for the receptionist to acknowledge me as she flips through a magazine.

“How can I help you?” she asks, not even bothering to meet my gaze.

“I’m here to see Detective Rodriguez.”

She points to the waiting area. “Have a seat and he’ll be with you shortly.”

I take a seat in the waiting area and each minute that passes only pisses me off more as I wait for my brother. The worst thing is, I know he’s going to act like this is no big deal. Just another day and I guess for us, it is. He keeps screwing up and I keep showing up to rescue him. In his mind, he can keep doing this forever because I will show up, I’ll always come to bail him out - even if it’s killing me.

“Smith.”

I glance up and Rodriguez gestures me over. Damn, he looks like hell. He has dark circles under his eyes and his dark hair looks like he’s been running his hands through it repeatedly.

“You look like shit, dude,” I say when I reach him and he nods. “Why are you at work so soon?”

He leads me back to his desk and plops down in his chair with a sigh. “Because I can’t be anywhere else. I have to figure out who killed Laney.”